Putting the Cat Out
by LadyNightRunner
Summary: In which Loki is placed in Avenger's Tower, Thor is in the wrong place at the wrong time, Clint fails to locate the cat at bedtime, and Tony gets stuck playing babysitter. Giftfic.


First off...have no fear, I'm not running full-tilt into a new fandom and abandoning anything. This was written as a present for a friend, and as Avengers makes me squee, it turned into a fun little thing to throw a few hundred words at now and then. _If_ there is a sequel, there's no telling when it will pop up. I'm not sure where the little romance came from...but I like it.

I hope you enjoy this little piece.

* * *

Suddenly, it's over. Which is…weird. It ended so fast, and after the buildup to the end, it all seems a little cheap. But that's how it goes, and Tony finds himself with a partially wrecked tower full of Avengers- and he only invited two of them, Steve out of obligation and Bruce for the sheer geeky joy of having another tech head to really _talk _with. Then there's the lady and the loony and the big dumb blonde. And one more.

Two weeks after departing for Asgard, Thor returned with an armful of weak, still-healing Loki and announced that his powers had been bound up like his had been once, and that since no one in Asgard wanted to keep Loki, he'd brought him back to Midgard with him. To stay.

Tony considered Loki to be a kind of pet. He certainly acted like one, rarely speaking to anyone at all and when he did, it was usually a string of curses in a jumble of languages (Loki had a talented tongue, as Thor reminded anyone n the receiving end of the swearing). He tended towards sharp hissing and snarls, which tended to get his point across a little faster. He slept a lot and lay about even more, even permitting Thor to pick him up and carry him about on occasion, hanging limply in the big man's arms like a particularly sulky housecat. He was pretty. Decorative.

Which, naturally, encouraged Tony to poke at him whenever he got the chance.

Which, for some strange reason that Tony attributed to a lifetime of growing up with Thor and people who probably teased and jabbed in the same fashion, endeared him to Loki.

Loki began spending a lot of his waking hours in Tony's private workshop, lounging on the couch in clear defiance of the security protocols that had been set up specifically to prevent things like that from happening. Questioning Jarvis and running system checks revealed nothing, and Tony was forced to live with the lanky god lounging about his work space like an out of work porn star, all long lean lines, fine angles, and the strangest 'take me home' air about him.

The residents of the tower were, for the most part, smart enough not to comment on the new arrangements, though Clint made the occasional remark about Tony's 'pet', usually when Thor wasn't around to hear. He was backed up by Steve, who admitted to having pegged Tony for a dog person and did Loki like being scratched behind the ears? Tony took it in stride, figuring he deserved it for not booting the freeloading bastard the first time he'd found him draped decoratively over _his_ couch.

Whenever Thor went to visit his woman (which was as often as possible), he left the care of his brother in the hands of his teammates, who tended to leave most of it up to Tony. The evening task of 'putting the cat in', however, fell to whoever was awake first and let him out.

Tony always slept late those days.

It was Clint's turn to chase Loki off to bed the night Tony was relaxing with a glass of whiskey and designs for a new toy he and Bruce had been designing. He intended to work on it until he fell asleep, undisturbed by the rest of the tower's residents.

_Terribly sorry for disturbing you, sir, but Master Barton has left a message for you._

"Go ahead, Jarvis. What's the old biddy want?"

_He says that the cat is missing, and that you had better check under your bed for him, sir._

"Loki's _missing_?"

_So he claimed, sir. As usual, all I can determine is that he remains within the Tower. His exact whereabouts are a mystery._

Early on, Tony had discovered that Loki's very being confounded his security programming- he was invisible unless Jarvis was given a very explicit location in which he was already sitting. Extensive updates had allowed for him to know whether or not the god was in the Tower or not, but all attempts at being able to pin down his location, even to a single floor, had met with failure. It was supremely frustrating, and was only slightly tempered by the fact that Loki did not go visit more than a handful of floors, with his favorite being _Tony's private space_. Thus, while a floor-by-floor search was a pain, there were only so many places he could be hiding.

Loki turned up in the last place Tony thought of: the bathroom in the back corner of his workshop. Normally Tony would have considered this a simple case of him being his usual pain-in-the-ass self, but this time…the situation was different.

Loki sat on the floor, supported solely by the arm he had thrown across the rim of the toilet bowl, apparently passed out. Vomit had splattered on his hand, streaked down his chin and shirt, puddled on the floor, and dripped down the side of the toilet. His normally pale skin had gone an unhealthy grayish shade, made worse by the sweat giving his skin a strange, plastic appearance.

"Well _shit_. Jarvis?"

_Sir?_

"I've got him. Send Clint down here- I'm gonna need a hand getting him out of here- he weighs a ton."

_Of course, sir_.

When Clint arrived, Tony had mopped up the mess on Loki's skin and peeled his shirt off, tossing it into the shower stall to be dealt with later.

"So what is he doing back…oh. _No_. I am _not_-"

"Your night to put him in, isn't it?" Tony said sourly. "Just help me get him upstairs."

Between the two of them they managed to wrestle Loki's unfairly heavy body up several floors and get him into his room. It wasn't much more than a small bedroom attached to Thor's through a shared bathroom, but it was where he spent most of his time…not that this was obvious, as he had almost no possessions and the bed was one of only two pieces of furniture.

The minute Loki was on the bed, Clint was gone, trailing some lame excuse about a shower.

Tony was left alone with a feverish god and no clue what to do with him.

Two hours and a phone call to New Mexico later, Tony was babysitting a glass of ginger and honey tea while he waited for Loki to wake. Thor had recommended a 'tonic' Jane provided when he'd eaten something he shouldn't have months before, and it took Tony the better part of a half hour to get Jane on the phone to explain that the tonic was just hot water, honey, ginger, and lemon juice.

In the space between then and now, he'd wrestled Loki's unresponsive body into clean clothes, tucked him in, tried to find a babysitter for him, failed at that, alphabetized the seven books stacked on top of the wardrobe, and now sat beside the bed, playing games on his phone and listening to Loki breathe. Scans had found his temperature to be a sizzling 102.5, which was likely to be a relatively high fever for him. (The reasoning behind this being that Jotun were colder than humans and Thor ran hot- apparently most Asgardians did, according to Jane- so Loki, being a mix of the two, ought to even out a little on the low side of human average, with Jarvis' careful monitoring coming up with a resting temperature of 97 degrees on the dot.) How resistant he was to high fevers was unknown, but both Thor and Pepper had insisted someone keep watch.

Tony had been stuck with 'his' cat and left.

Eventually, Loki stirred, groaning softly and rolling over to bury his face in a pillow. Tony heaved a sigh of relief and went to kneel on the bed, grasping Loki's shoulder.

"Hey. You. Tall pale and creepy."

"Get _off_ of me."

"I will in a minute. I've got a glass of stuff you need to drink before you pass out again."

"Leave me be, Stark. I'm-"

"Sick, yeah, I know. I peeled your pukey ass off my bathroom floor two hours ago, and called Thor about it. He says you need this…tonic."

Loki opened one eye and fixed Tony with a stony glare. "Thor's medicine is unlikely to suit my tastes. I'll do without."

"It's not _his_ medicine, it's his girlfriend's. And it works on just about everyone, so you're not exempt. Roll over and drink it or I'll go get a funnel and _make_ you drink it."

"You wouldn't _dare_."

"I would. Sit up and drink this."

"No."

Tony made a frustrated sound. "I'm trying to _help_ you."

"I do not want _charity_."

"It's not _about_ charity, it's about keeping you brother from freaking out when he gets back and beating me through a wall for not taking care of you." Tony pushed the glass at Loki. "I'm not going to hover over you in a nurse's outfit and take your temperature, either. You drink this, you go to sleep, and I'll leave you alone until morning."

"And what do you intent to do with me _then_?" Loki took the glass, inspecting it with an air of false interest, though it was clear he had no idea what he should or shouldn't be looking for in the drink.

"Probably the same thing. Check your fever, make you take your meds, feed you, and leave. I've got work to do."

Loki looked at him for a moment, then back to the glass. "And this…tonic…it will help?"

"It should. Ginger settles just about everyone's stomach. And if it doesn't, there's always peppermint."

"I want to see you drink it first," Loki said quietly, holding the glass out.

"Its not _poisoned_," Tony groaned, but he took the glass, turned to Loki could see him in profile, and took a big gulp of the lukewarm drink, pulling back with a droplet trickling down his chin.

Apparently satisfied, Loki took the glass back and drank the contents slowly, brows furrowing at the new flavors and the light tingling, warming sensation of the ginger on his tongue.

"It…will suffice," he murmured.

"Good. Go back to sleep when you're done. JARVIS?"

_Yes sir?_

"Turn the lights out when Loki tells you to."

_Of course, sir_.

Tony left at once, knowing that the cranky bundle of limbs n the bed could look after himself.

_Sir? I'm sorry to wake you, sir, but there is a problem._

Tony roused, squirming around on the bed with a groan and reaching for a pillow to block JARVIS' voice with.

_It's urgent, sir_.

"Alright, alright, _what_?"

_Master Loki is in need of your presence, sir._

"The princess can wait until morning. What time is it?"

_Two twenty seven in the morning, sir._

"_UGH__._ I'm going back to sleep."

_He is in pain, sir, and needs medical attention._

"But-"

_Apparently it is so severe that he was calling for his brother._

Tony froze. Loki had made it very clear that while he still liked Thor better than most people, he wasn't _that_ fond of the big blond. If he was calling for Thor, it must be serious.

"Alright, I'm coming." He crawled out of bed, dressed in something other than Iron Man boxers, and shuffled out into the tower.

He could hear Loki before he saw him, heard the soft groans in the hallway and the rustle of fabric moving as he neared the door. They were not happy sounds.

Tony let himself in, then stopped in the doorway and tried to make sense of everything he was seeing.

Loki lay on the bed, tangled up in the sheets, drenched in sweat and an even less healthy color than before. His eyes, when he turned to look at Tony, were huge and dark and wet, face marked with tearstains. He was partially curled in on himself, clutching his stomach. Thin, watery vomit stained the sheets in several places.

"Could you try _not_ doing everything to the extreme?" Tony demanded, striding across the room and beginning to untangle the sheets. "I mean..._really_. Look at this. It's a mess."

"Brother, _please_," Loki whimpered. "It hurts…"

Tony took another look at him and realized that he wasn't really in there. The fever burning through him had him delirious.

"JARVIS?"

_Sir_?

"Get Steve out of bed and in here. I need to move Loki."

By the time Steve showed up, Tony had gotten Loki untangled and was unsuccessfully trying to get some water into him.

"What did you _do_?" Steve demanded, hurrying to the bed.

"Nothing. He was burning up and delirious when I got in here. I think it's just a stomach flu, but I could be wrong."

"No, you're right." Steve pressed the back of his hand to Loki's forehead. "Oh…he's really hot."

"I'm- of course I'm right! But why are _you_ saying so?"

"I had this…I think. A few days ago."

Tony snorted. "We all would have known if you had."

Steve shook his head. "I locked myself in my room for a couple of days and slept on the bathroom floor, then went to bed and slept the rest of it off."

"And you didn't _tell_ anyone?"

"No, I thought…should I have?"

"_Duh_. Anyone in the Tower could've picked it up off of you. And since when do _you_ get sick?"

"Since several days ago," Steve murmured, shrugging. "I don't know anything else. I was fine, and then I was feverish and vomiting."

"Well, that's what he's got too." Tony sighed. "Carry him up to my room. I'm going to call Thor."

Steve did more than just move Loki- he dressed him in clean clothes and tucked him in, lingering over the slim, pale figure in the bed until Tony returned, obviously worrying.

"Well, Thor says Loki never got sick like this when they were kids, so we're stuck on that front," Tony grumbled. "Apparently he's more the type to get the sniffles and lie around looking pathetic. Spewing fountains of barf is more Thor's thing than Loki's." He sighed. "Any ideas on what to do with him, Cap?"

Steve shook his head. "A cold cloth on the back of the neck helps me, but he's supposed to be cold, so I doubt that would help him much, and heat would probably make it worse." He looked down at Loki again, chewing on his lip. "He's…different like this, isn't he?"

"Most people are."

"No, he's…he's not so scary, when he's not being crazy." He fussed with the edge of the blanket. "I know he hasn't had his power for weeks and he can't do anything anymore, but I still saw the man who tried to destroy the world until now."

Tony snorted. "You and everyone else. Thor and I are the only ones who seem him any different."

"Why you?"

"For one, I don't have anything to be afraid of in terms of that mind-control thing he did. For two, I see him on his own a lot more than you do, just lying around and watching things. And for three, I actually spend time with him."

"But-"

"Barton and Bruce and Natasha are all just as guilty of it, trust me. I just…I haven't been allowed to put him in a little box labeled psycho and leave him there. He follows me around like a damn puppy and watches me work. If I thought he was wired to be a killer 24/7, I'd never get any work done with him leaning over my shoulder. But all he wants these days is quiet and something to do." He snorted. "Thor gave him a puzzle two weeks ago. He hid it under one of my workbenches and put the whole thing together in an afternoon- all two thousand pieces. Didn't hear a sound out of him for hours."

"He does…jigsaw puzzles?"

"It's not like he has anything else to do."

"I…I guess." Steve looked down again. "He's so _small_."

"He's thin," Tony corrected. "Not built like anyone else in the tower except maybe Natasha."

"He's still small. Just not short. He doesn't look dangerous."

"They never do." Tony sighed and shooed him away. "Go back to bed. I've got this."

"You're sure?"

"Yup. Go."

When Steve was gone, Tony dragged a chair over to the side of the bed and folded himself into it with a sigh, watching Loki. He'd fallen into sleep or unconsciousness again, lying nearly motionless and quiet under the sheet Steve had covered him with. Still, he was really very pretty. Tony had noticed some of his attractiveness before, in battle, and then while watching him lounge about the tower, but when he was still and quiet and not paying attention, much of his physical attractiveness was very obvious. For all that Steve said he was small, he had a long, lean, graceful frame, and when seen in motion, it was easy to see why the entire team called him 'kitty'; that smooth, powerful grace and sleek, compact muscle he possessed was just like that on a large, healthy house cat, hiding a lot of sharp pointy bits under pretty wrapping. The feline look was in his face too, in the sharp, precise lines of his cheekbones and his almost unnaturally straight nose, in the way his eyes were large and soft and intelligent and safely set into deep sockets, the instability and sheer nuttiness hidden by thick lashes. And like any good cat, he had thick hair that looked pettably soft and big, flexible hands and feet that made no noise unless he wanted them to. Not tat he ever wanted them to. All he was missing was a long, expressive tail…and really, his eyebrows were more than enough on that front.

"I can feel your eyes," Loki rasped.

Tony nearly leaped out his chair, one hand reaching to activate the Mark VII bracelet on his other wrist. "You're _awake_?"

"It is difficult to sleep with my stomach eating itself."

"You've been awake the _whole time_?"

"What, exactly, _is_ the whole time?"

"Since you got JARVIS to wake me up."

"I did?"

"You did. He said you were crying for Thor and made me come down to take care of you."

Loki shifted slowly, rolling onto his side with a soft grunt of discomfort. "This is not my bed."

"No, it's _mine_."

"Why am I in your bed?"

"You puked all over yours."

Loki blinked slowly. "Did I?"

"All. Over. It." Tony grimaced. "And you were asking for Thor."

"I…was?"

"You looked like you were really hurting…and you said you were in pain."

"I still am." Loki shifted again, looking uncomfortable. "How did you get me up here? Surely you cannot lift my weight on your own."

Tony snorted. "I could move you with the suit."

"But you did not?"

"I dragged Steve out of bed and made him move you so I could call Thor."

"You _contacted_ him?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You _told_ him I was _incapacitated_?"

Tony sighed and leaned back in his chair, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes. "I told him you were burning up with a fever and throwing up all over the place! What did you expect me to do? I don't know a damn thing about you or how your body works!"

"It works like _yours_, you incompetent excuse for a genius! How else would it function?"

"How the hell should I know? You were born Jotun, you were turned into and raised Asgardian, and you've had your powers bound and live like a human now. I _know_ your body temperature is lower than a human's, but that is _all_ I know, and the scientist in me doesn't want to add random shit to an already unstable unknown compound!"

Loki shifted again, one long arm sliding over his side so his hand could spread over his belly, pale fingers almost too thin against the dark fabric of his sweat-stained t-shirt.

"You realize you will have sent him into a panic."

"I realize that Jane was restraining him when I hung up, yeah. But think about it- your health and safety is one of his top priorities. He'd try to kill me if I let you die or fall into a coma or something because I wasn't taking care of you properly. He needed to know that you were sick and he needed to know that you were getting worse. No one else would have called."

Loki sighed quietly.

"I suppose it was necessary," he murmured.

"No shit," Tony snorted. "Your stomach still hurting?"

"It is."

"Need something for it?"

"I…do not know what would remedy the pain…I cannot stomach a tonic or medicine."

"I'll get you a hot pad," Tony sighed. "JARVIS?"

_Sir?_

"Monitor Loki's condition and let me know if there are any changes."

_Of course, sir. _

"And if he's going to throw up again….try and keep him from doing it in my bed, okay?"

_Of course_.

Tony sighed and heaved himself out of the chair, shuffling out of the room in search of a hot pad of beanbag. He shouldn't be doing this. Why was he doing this? Well, he had Loki in his bed now, and he didn't feel like going to find a comfortable couch to sleep on, so all he could do was wander around and contemplate a mostly sleepless night/early morning while a fallen god slept in his bed.

When he returned, it was evident that JARVIS had been talking to Loki. The lean man was curled against the fat body pillow that Tony used on nights when he'd overdone it in the garage, face pillowed on one plush green end of it, and there was an Iron Man plushie that Tony had been tossing around tucked under his arm. He looked about as comfortable as an extremely ill person could look.

"You got out of bed," Tony accused.

"I did not. But I rolled over." Loki squeezed the toy. It made a sound like rocket engines firing, and the arc reactor in the chest glowed briefly blue. "These were tucked under the edge of the bed frame. They are quite comfortable. And far more attractive than I would believe a man of your tastes to possess."

"It's a _toy_."

"But a remarkably well thought-out toy," Loki pointed out. "The mechanism that fuels the sound and light is small and centered well enough that it cannot be felt with the toy is held, thereby making it appealing to any child that wants to hug it. Quite a pleasing and intelligent design."

"And you think I don't have things like that."

"You deliberately make life difficult for yourself. I can't imagine why that behavior wouldn't extend into other parts of your life a well, like your living arrangements and furnishings."

"I do not!" Tony stomped over to the bed and shoved a hot rice bag at Loki. "Here. For your stomach."

Loki put the toy down and took the bag, pressing it to his stomach with a shuddery sigh of relief.

"Oh….that's much better…"

He rolled slowly onto his back, looking up at Tony through hazy, half-lidded eyes. "You do, you know. You find the hardest way to do everything and torture yourself with it."

"How would you know, anyway?"

"I read your file."

"You did _what_?"

"Barton had memorized the contents. He gave it all to me when I took him."

"He-"

"You have lived a remarkable and unfortunate life, Stark. Far more interesting and meaningful than I would have expected. Such a pity that you spend all your time wallowing in the unpleasant parts of it."

He shifted, head falling to the side so he could nuzzle at the body pillow, clearly settling down to rest. "

"Thank you. For the warmth."

"Yeah, sure." Tony jammed his hands in his pockets, hesitating before he turned to go. "Tell JARVIS if you need something."

He was sitting at his workbench perhaps half an hour later, tinkering with some small, unimportant think in an effort to keep from thinking about how little sleep he was getting when JARVIS interrupted.

_Mister Loki requests your presence, sir._

"If it's not an emergency, I'm not interested."

_He suggested sharing your bed, sir, in the interest of helping you get a little more rest tonight._

"And you decided to actually needed to relay that message?"

_You need rest, sir._

"I'm not sleeping with him."

_Research shows that most human beings sleep better with a warm body to lie with, sir, and if nothing else, Mister Loki is certainly a warm body._

"The answer is still no."

_He requested I make it clear that there will be a barrier between the two of you. Apparently the practice is called bundling, and is traditionally used to separate young people with amorous intentions, but he claims men like you who prefer not to touch other men in any intimate fashion have utilized the practice to share warmth on cold nights._

"I don't mind touching men, I-"

_I am well aware, sir. I simply relayed the message exactly as it was given to me._

"Well you can tell him I am _not_-"

_I will be forced to report your lack of rest to Ms Potts, sir. Do remember that._

"You will _not!_"

_You installed the subroutines that insist upon such reports, sir. You claimed they are for your own safety and well-being._

Tony swore, quietly, then loudly and very enthusiastically. He _had_ installed those subroutines, to ensure that he ate and slept at times when he would have otherwise done neither. A few shaky mornings when his blood sugar was so low he nearly passed out on the stairs and a few sudden, unplanned-for naps in the middle of conversations had made it clear that h needed _some_ kind of warning system to ensure such things didn't happen at more crucial times.

"I'll go. I'll…sleep in the chair or something. Happy?"

_As it is possible for me to be, sir. Do get some rest._

Loki was curled up against the body pillow when Tony stormed in, watching him through heavily lidded eyes wit a small but smug smile bringing a little light to his tired face.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming, Stark," he murmured. His voice was heavy with exhaustion, almost masking the harsh rasp of an abused throat.

"I'm sleeping in the _chair_," Tony informed him. "So JARVIS doesn't report me."

"You will court a stiff neck and aching back if you do that," Loki warned, watching him cross the room to sink into the relatively soft chair.

"I'll deal with it."

"What is it that keeps you from sharing the bed with me? It is yours to begin with, is it not?"

"It's…you're _you_, Loki."

"And yet you have begun to use my name when you speak to me. We are not strangers, Stark. What is a little warmth and comfort shared between acquaintances? It is a small thing to ask."

Realization struck Tony like one of Natasha's mini tasers, and he groaned.

"_I_ get it. You just want someone in bed to keep _you_ warm."

To his surprise, Loki didn't try to deny it. He just smiled faintly and shrugged.

"It is a pleasant consequence of your presence in the bed, yes," he said diplomatically.

"JARVIS can warm the bed for you, if that's what you need."

"Artificial heat doesn't have the same effect."

"Which is _what_, exactly?"

Loki blushed, just the faintest flag of pink on his too-pale cheekbones.

"I cannot sleep. When I was a child, I would share a bed with Thor when either of us felt poorly…it has been a long time since then, but still I cannot sleep alone when I am unwell. It is…it is quite the inconvenience."

Tony groaned and covered his face with both hands. "You're telling me that you _can't_ sleep unless I or someone else get into the bed with you?"

"I am afraid that only you or Thor will do."

"_Why_?"

"You are the only people I trust enough," Loki said quietly. "Thor is my brother. He would…he would not hurt me. And you have shown no desire to, no matter how far I push or how deeply I infiltrate your private time and personal space. The others…even the one out of his own time…I do not trust him not to be startled and to strike me without thinking."

"You don't seriously think _Steve_ would-"

"I do not believe he would consciously attack me without just cause, Stark. He is far too honorable for that. But by accident? If I were to move too suddenly, perhaps off to his side, where my intentions were not immediately clear? He would attack me on instinct in a heartbeat. The others might not wait for a chance. And the shape-changer…I would not share a bed with him if my life depended on it. So that leaves you, Stark."

Tony made a disgusted sound and sank deeper into his chair.

"You won't sleep?"

"It is not a matter of _will_, Stark. If that were the case I would not be awake to speak with you. I am _incapable_ of sleeping at this point." Loki met Tony's eyes. "If you wish for confirmation, ask the archer what occurred directly after my arrival here in Midgar and the events leading to my possessing the Tesseract."

"Why would he know?"

"I kept him with me. Go on. Gather your facts like a good scientist. I will still be here when you return."

Tony got up and stomped to the door. "JARVIS? Keep an eye on him. If he falls asleep, let me know _immediately_."

_Of course, sir_.

So Tony went, knowing that Clint would be awake. Pepper often accused him of being nocturnal, but Clint often seemed like he really was, and never suffered for it.

Sure enough, he was stretched out on his bed, watching some cowboy movie Tony didn't recognize.

"Need something?"

"What happened after Loki took you and Dr. Selvig and left the remains of the SHEILD base?"

"Why the hell do you want to know?" Clint demanded, instantly tense.

"Loki wanted me to ask."

"And you listened to him?"

"I need to know what happened to _him_. It's got something to do with whatever's wrong with him now."

Clint sighed. "You sure that's it?"

"Look, he was _delirious_ earlier, talking to Thor and everything. If knowing what happened will help so I can go get some sleep before dawn, I want to know."

"He got sick," Clint said simply.

"What?"

"We were driving to his base…I was in the back seat with him, with Selvig driving. Out of nowhere he doubled over and started spewing this black slime all over the place. Really nasty stuff, looked kind of like tar. By the time we got wherever we were going, he'd started a fever and he looked like _shit_, but he wouldn't sleep. Kept saying that it wasn't possible and spewing more slime. He was like that for three days before the fever broke and he just...vanished. Came back a day later, locked himself in a bedroom, and slept for eighteen hours straight. When he finally started interacting with everyone again, you could tell he'd lost a ton of weight…he was weak, for a little while." He shook his head. "It was weird. Don't know what caused it. Does that help?"

Tony nodded. "I guess it does."

"You _guess_?"

"He doesn't sleep unless he's safe." Tony ran his fingers through his hair. "So he won't sleep when he's sick, because he can't protect himself if he's attacked. Damn."

"He _won't_?"

"He says that he can't. And given the way he's looking….I'm starting to believe it."

"You're actually listening to him?"

"And watching him. And having JARVIS monitor. He _should_ be sound asleep right now…but he's lying in bed, staring at the weave on his pillow and yawning instead." He groaned. "And I bet Thor will confirm it if I call again. _Dammit_."

Clint shrugged. "What does it matter? He'll sleep after he recovers, even if it takes awhile."

"Thor is due back in a few days. If Loki's not sleeping until then, Thor will turn me inside out for not taking care of him. And then he'll come after the rest of you."

"It's just stomach flu. He'll _live_."

"Doesn't matter to Thor."

"What are you going to do about it, then? Sedate him? You'd have to be there to shoot him up every couple of hours to keep him down."

"I don't know yet. I'll figure something out. Thanks."

"Mmm. Good luck, then."

"Yeah….yeah, I'll need it."

Defeated, Tony shuffled back to his bedroom. Loki hadn't moved.

"He told you?" he asked quietly.

"That you puked black shit everywhere for three days and then vanished for a fourth before you slept? Yeah."

"The strain of the travel and trauma I put myself through became too much, and I had a rebound reaction," Loki murmured. "Believe me, I would have slept through it if I could have. But it was not happening."

"You had a bunch of zombie slaves with you and were weren't _safe_?"

"They would have killed me, given the chance."

"I…yeah, I guess they would've." Tony sank into the chair with a groan. "Fine. I'll stay here. You close your eyes and get to sleep already."

A small, shy smile lit Loki's face up.

"Thank you."

"Shut up. _Sleep_."

Thor returned several days later to find Steve pottering around the kitchen, Clint reading through what appeared to be a mission report on a data pad, and an unusual quiet settled over the residential portion of the tower.

_Your brother is in Mister Stark's bedroom, sir, _JARVIS informed him. _He is currently awake._

"In _Tony's_ room?" Thor repeated. "Why?"

_Initially, Loki soiled the bedclothes in his own room and had to be moved while they were cleaned. The reason for his continued stay in another room is unknown to me._

Frowning, Thor headed upstairs to the floor that was almost entirely Tony's and paused outside the door. He could feel his brother beyond the door, his presence cool and calm for a change…what could have caused such a change in his behavior? Usually he was quiet, but Thor could feel the built-up tension and frustration at his captivity, lessened only when he did things that made Tony throw a fit. This…this was new.

The door slid open.

_You may enter, sir_.

He slipped inside, taking care to move quietly and slowly, wary of any kind of trick that might be played on him.

There was no trick. Just Loki, curled loosely on his side in the bed with a toy Iron Man tucked under his arm and Tony spread over much of the remaining space beside him, head pillowed in the valley of his waist.

Green eyes flickered open.

"You've returned." Loki's voice was tired, but no longer strained.

"I have. What…" Thor hesitated. "What have you done to Tony?"

"Nothing," Loki said quietly. "Merely spent so much time in his company that I have infected him…he succumbed around dawn yesterday."

"You _infected_ him?"

"It is a small ting," Loki continued. "I did not do it consciously. It is not something I can control…but he insisted on spending much of his time here, with me…he took ill faster than I had expected…"

Thor hurried over to the side of the bed and leaned over Tony, unsure of what he was looking for. The man was very soundly asleep, the only things amiss about him being a bright flush on his cheekbones and a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"He will recover," Loki promised. "As I am doing now. As I said, it is a small thing…he calls it 'stomach flu', and says it is a common illness here in Midgard."

Thor frowned. "You share a bed with him. Why?"

"I cannot sleep without the company, Thor. You should know that."

"You trust him?"

"I am nearly naked and lying unarmed in a bed with him, as I have for two days now. I should think that was enough of an indication."

"You _like _him?"

"He amuses me…and he cares, no matter how he tries to deny it. It is enough."

Thor made a disapproving sound. "Don't toy with him. He has endured worse than you have, and in far shorter a lifetime."

"I know that. I think…perhaps that is why he appeals to me…he is a strange little puzzle, with many pieces…I believe he will take me a long while to put together."

"And when you _do_ put him together?" Thor demanded. "What then?"

"If the final picture is a pleasant one? I will seal the cracks and keep him safe, as is appropriate for something so precious."

Thor hesitated, and then reached out to touch Loki. His skin was still unusually warm to the touch, but not burning any longer. The fever had nearly broken. "What if he hides the pieces, brother?"

"I will find them…until he bids me stop. _If_ he does so. And if not…all the better for me. Worry not, Thor."

"I always worry where you are involved."

"Not with this one. Not now. I want him. And I want him whole. I want to know what he looks like when he smiles."

Thor relented, sharing a broad grin with his brother.

"He is handsome enough, if you like men like him. There is a certain charm to his humor and his smile." A thought came to him, and his smile softened. "And he protects those he is fond of. And spoils them. He is a good choice, I suppose…"

"Mmm…you approve. I never thought you would."

"He will not come easy to you."

"He likes men as well as women. I can work with that. And I am prepared to _work_. I have nothing else to do but focus on him anyway."

"_Behave_."

"You are the one invading an eligible man's bedroom, brother, not I. _I_ was invited. Carried in, even."

Thor snorted and backed away. "Rest well, brother. I will send food."

Loki nodded. As the door shut, Tony stirred, blinking irritably. "Mmn?"

"Merely my brother. The big oaf wanted to know what business I had in your bed."

"Don't _say_ it like that."

"I _am_ in your bed."

"But not like that."

"No…not yet."

"You keep talking like that and I'll send you back to your room."

"I doubt that. You value my presence too much to banish me."

"I do _not_."

"You have been sleeping so deeply you drooled all over my shirt for nearly an hour. I should think that means you are comfortable with me…and prefer to hold me, as you did not sleep half so deep for most of the night."

"Are you taking _notes_ on this?" Tony scowled. "Nevermind…too much talking…head hurts…"

"Thor will return with a meal later on…you ought to sleep now."

"Don't _mother_ me."

"Try and stop me, Tony."

"I'll puke on you."

"Which will give me excuse to undress myself…and likely you as well."

"Why can you turn _everything_ back at me?"

"Because you are ill." A thin, amused smile touched Loki's face. "You gave me some advice the other night that I believe applies now."

"Yeah? What was it?"

"Shut up. _Sleep_."

Tony drifted off still grinning.


End file.
